The Good Witch
by angelsinstead
Summary: Anne Hale is accused of witchcraft. She claims she is innocent. Who will believe her? Is Anne really a witch?


_John Alden: Anne Hale is a witch!_

_Cotton Mather: [laughing] That is the most preposterous thing I've heard._

_(Quotes from Salem)  
_

Everyone in Salem came out that fateful day to witness Anne Hale's trial. It seemed as though the entire town was ready to condemn her into the flames of hell for the offense of witchcraft - all except Cotton Mather. He stood at the pulpit declaring that there was no possible way Anne could be a witch.

"I know Anne. She's beautiful, pure, and full of light..." said Cotton.

"You! It's only because you're in love with her and you want her in your bed, her legs locked around you as you thrust-!" Hathorne spoke out boldly.

"You're only jealous because Anne chose ME!" Cotton shot back. "We are to be married!"

"The reverend is going to bed down with the witch!" Hathorne said with a mocking laugh.

"Enough!" Anne cried out as she spoke up on her own behalf. "I am not a witch. I AM NOT!"

An old woman stood up from a wooden bench, calling out shrilly, "I saw you in the dark forest, spreading your legs wide for the beast. You ARE a witch! You have lain with the devil."

"I have not. I HAVEN'T!" Anne sobbed as tears ran down her face.

"Stop it!" Cotton said in a booming voice. "I am the reverend here. I have personally examined Miss Hale for the witch's mark. I have found none. She is NOT a witch. I have spoken."

"That's not what John Alden said. He had to destroy Mary Sibley, a proven witch. When I spoke to him, he condemned Anne Hale as her accomplice," Hawthorne stated.

"John Alden isn't present. He cannot speak at this trial to implicate Anne, nor is there evidence proving that Mary was a witch, nor that he destroyed her," Cotton argued.

The crowd murmured indistinctly. No one had seen Alden - not since he and Mary Sibley had disappeared a couple of months prior. There had been rumors Mary was indeed a witch and that John had no other choice but to execute his former lover. No one knew what had actually happened, except that Cotton Mather and his father Increase had found it necessary to condemn several of Salem's citizens to die for the offense of witchcraft. It seemed as though no one was safe. It was entirely uncertain who may be accused next of witchery.

"I am innocent," Anne said as she stood up from her chair. "I am not... nor will I ever be... a witch."

Before anyone could stop her, she ran out of the chapel as though the hounds of hell were after her. The town of Salem was thirsty for blood. Anne knew they wanted hers. She had to get to safety. She just had to get away.

She rushed home and hurriedly packed a bag. She wasn't staying in Salem a moment longer. She didn't want to be hung like all the others in the town's square or burned at the stake or some other horrible fate.

"I'll go to Boston," she said to herself. "That's where I'll go. No one will find me there."

She didn't make it out the front door. A man barged into her home. "Cotton," she said with relief as she went into his arms. She sobbed softly on his shoulder as he held her and caressed her hair. "You won't let them hurt me, will you?"

"No, Anne. Not ever. We are going away, just you and I. We'll find someplace safe," he promised.

"Then we'll be married?" she asked hopefully as she pulled away and gazed into his luminous green eyes.

"Yes, we'll be married," he said as his lips met hers in a sweet, yet passionate kiss.

"Let's go, Cotton. We must go at once," she said after she managed to tear herself away from his lips. "Let's go to Boston."

Cotton didn't even have time to pack himself a bag as the town had formed an angry mob. Dozens of Salem's citizens were coming toward Anne's house at an incredible speed. Anne and Cotton slipped out the back to fetch a horse from the stables.

"We must hurry, my love," Cotton said as he lifted Anne astride the horse.

"Cotton!" she cried out as they barely made their getaway.

They rode off together into the forest, hoping that no one would catch up to them as they left for Boston.

Xxxooo

_Anne: "Living in Salem and not believing in witches is like living in London and not believing in fog."_

_(Quote from Salem)  
_

Hours later, it was dark. They had sought shelter in a wooded area where they discovered an old abandoned cabin. Cotton lit a fire in the hearth for warmth as Anne huddled under her cloak. She was thankful they had escaped Salem, but she still didn't feel safe. She imagined her accusers might come breaking down the door.

"I am tired and cold... and ever so hungry," Anne said quietly.

"The fire will keep us warm. We can rest soon," Cotton promised. "And in the morning, we can search for berries or something more we can eat."

"Thank you, Cotton... for taking such good care of me," she said as he came to her side and drew her into his arms. His warm flesh was comforting as she snuggled up to him.

"I love you, Anne. I meant that when I told you before and I want you to be my bride."

She caressed his cheek in the warm glow of the firelight. "That's what I want, too. You didn't believe it... not even for a moment that I am a witch?"

He shook his head. "Not you. Never you. You're far too beautiful to be a witch and far too good. They don't know you as I know you. They don't know that you love animals... nor have they seen you as you heal the sick... or when you calmed a crying young woman who was frightened while giving birth as she lay in great pain within the brothel. I have seen all those things and I have witnessed it with my own two eyes. You are pure; innocent. There isn't a wicked bone within your body."

"My dear friend Bridget - she wasn't a witch... and they killed her... and you- you let them."

"I am sorry, Anne. Please forgive me. I know I have made great mistakes. But I did not know. I was following my father's orders as if it were law. I believed him when he condemned all the ones he called witches... until you."

"Where is he... your father?"

"He's... he's dead," said Cotton with pain in his eyes. "I had to do the unthinkable. When he accused you, I could not let him..."

Cotton looked up toward the Heavens. "Ohhh please, forgive me for what I have done."

Anne stared at him in shock. Cotton had killed his own father... for her? Increase Mather, the greatest of all witch hunters was dead?

Cotton was quietly crying and Anne wiped away his tears. "It's going to be alright now. We are safe," she assured him.

She lightly kissed his lips as they sunk down on the floor together in front of the fireplace. "Make love to me, Cotton," she breathed. "Make me forget all the bloodshed and the horrible things we have witnessed."

Cotton nodded as there were a few images in his own he needed to banish from his brain, including the bloodied body of father. He settled his lips on Anne's, tasting her sweetness. Her kisses were like luscious honey. He could not get enough. In moments, he forgot all they had endured as he struggled to get Anne and himself out of their tight, restricting clothing. She giggled as he threw the last of the offending garments across the floor.

"Cotton, I have never..." she whispered as he began to stroke her center.

"It's alright, Anne. We are to be married soon and our union is sacred in the eyes of God."

"Shouldn't we be married first before we...?"

"No, it must be now," he insisted with a groan.

Moments later, they were joined as one in the act of the greatest pleasure. She cried out, sinking her long nails into the flesh of his back as he stabbed himself deep inside her. "Cotton!" she said in a gasp. Anne had reached an orgasm almost the same instant that Cotton took her virginity. He was in awe of Anne's intense desire as she moved with him in perfect unison until he too had reached the highest summit of love's pleasure.

As they lay in the afterglow, Anne whispered, "What we just shared - it was breathtaking. Amazing really."

"You are amazing," he said as he looked at her with adoration.

"Go to sleep now, my dearest," she said as she tenderly caressed his cheek. Cotton closed his eyes, totally spent by the events of the long day as well as the ecstasy.

Moments later, he was lying still in her arms, sleeping peacefully. Quietly, she pulled out of his arms and rose to her feet. She was naked in the dancing firelight as she made her way over toward the bag that she had packed a few hours earlier.

She opened the satchel and a tiny little mouse peeked out, wriggling his nose as he regarded her. He made a couple of little squeaks as Anne gently hushed him. "Quiet, Mister Brown Jenkins or you'll awaken Cotton... and he must never know."

Anne smiled as her dear friend climbed up her arm and took his place upon her shoulder. Brown Jenkins looked like any other ordinary house mouse, but he was far from what he appeared. "No one will EVER know," Anne said softly as she thought of the mouse's significance.

She withdrew from her bag another precious possession, a worn book of spells which had belonged to her father. Brown Jenkins made soft sounds of contentment as Anne opened the book and looked at its pages in the glowing light of the fire. "What Cotton doesn't know won't hurt him," Anne said to her little friend and familiar. "I AM a witch... but I am a good one. From this day forward, I must fight my dark side. I must not ever let Cotton see my true nature or I might suffer a fate like Mary Sibley's."

Anne shuddered at the thought at what had happened to Mary. John Alden had to take her life when he discovered the woman he loved was a witch. John would be a formidable foe for a witch, but perhaps Cotton was even more dangerous. He was the son of Increase Mather, the greatest witch hunter Anne had ever known.

As Hawthorne had said earlier at Anne's trial, the reverend had fallen in love with the witch.

"But I am good witch," Anne said softly, her voice firm. She just had to keep telling herself that over and over again. And then maybe, just _maybe_, it would be true.


End file.
